Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline) (10 page)

“I’ll text you when I’m on the road.”

Who knew stealing cars could be so boring?

Just when she was about to step out of the car to switch sides, a pair of lights flashed in the mirror then stopped behind them.

“Get down!” He pushed the back of her head until she ducked down in the seat.

Fox’s body went stiff. Was he afraid? Her heart kicked into overdrive.

“Fuck.” He banged the steering wheel once then stared down at her. “Stay the fuck down. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

She couldn’t do more than nod before he was out the door. Keeping low, she listened carefully for hints about what was going on, but she could only make out quiet murmurs. Slowly, she hazarded a peek through the window.

A man stood across from Fox, silhouetted in the car’s headlights. It wasn’t a cop. So who was it? A friend? Someone from the shop he’d mentioned playing cards at?

Fox threw his arms out to the side in a gesture of macho annoyance. “I’m not stealing your jobs, man.” She could barely hear him, but that much had been clear.

The guy stepped toward him, his shoulders back. Something about him, even from this distance, seemed dangerous. Not a friend. But Fox could hold his own, couldn’t he?

More murmurs then Fox’s fists clenched. The man swung at him but Fox stepped back out of reach. He lunged and pushed at the stranger’s chest.

“Back off!” he yelled. “I don’t wanna start this shit with you.”

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Her imagination went wild. What if the guy pulled a gun? What if he shot Fox? Was Fox packing? They were criminals but . . . She didn’t think Fox was the violent kind and she’d never seen him carry a weapon.

Just when the man drew back to swing again, a siren went off in the distance. Both Fox and the stranger froze. She didn’t see lights yet but they’d be stupid not to split.

“Come on, idiot,” she whispered to herself.

The stranger backed away first. He pointed to Fox as he headed toward his car. “Stay the fuck away from my clients.”

“Quit being fucking paranoid,” Fox shot back.

More words were exchanged but they were drowned by the loud siren headed their way. Lights flashed in the distance. Her heart leapt to her throat.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

They weren’t doing anything wrong. Not yet anyway. The adrenaline rush was well past the fun kind that turned her on. Fox slid into the seat and a moment later, a police cruiser sped by.

The car behind them took off too and she finally exhaled a breath.

“What the fuck was that all about?” she said.

Fox stared out the window for a few moments before answering, “Nothing. Just a . . . small disagreement.”

“It didn’t look small.”

He turned and gave her a stern look. “I thought I told you to keep your head down.”

She wasn’t about to admit to spying so she didn’t respond. After a long sigh, Fox opened the car door again.

“Stick to the plan.” He climbed out of the car then stooped down to add, “I’ll meet you at my place.”

Addison spent the next twenty minutes trying to calm her stampeding heart. It seemed the worst was over at least. Fox had texted her and would meet her at home. There, in the garage, they stripped the plates and any identifying information. Tomorrow they’d deliver it to some secret location he said was “classified.” He wouldn’t answer her questions about who the guy who’d stopped him was or what his problem had been.

By the time they finished the process, they were too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed. It should have disturbed her that she fit so perfectly in his arms—as if she’d been molded specifically to be there—but she didn’t have enough brain cells working to think about it. Instead, she drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of Fox’s breathing.

***

Cheeky green lizards flitted around the tidy garden, like overwound children’s toys. Addison loved taking Gramps outside, listening to him laugh like a carefree boy as he watched their antics, and trying to sweet talk them into eating peanuts from his hand. No matter how many times Gran told him that lizards don’t eat peanuts, it was news to him every time, and he’d get upset if the staff tried to take the peanuts away.

Although the late afternoon sun had dipped far enough toward the horizon to make it bearable, Addison still found it overly warm, but both of her grandparents were wearing cardigans. Every other resident in the nursing home seemed to be too. It was like some sort of senior citizen dress code, along with various shades of loafer.

A lizard, bolder than the rest, zipped past her grandfather’s shoe. He lurched forward, as though trying to catch it, and almost toppled out of his wheelchair. Addison steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t chase after them like that, Gramps. You’re going to fall.”

“Oh, Pammie, quit being so overprotective. I’m not a child,” he grumbled.

Maybe he wasn’t a child, but he had a habit of falling if they didn’t keep a close eye on him.

“That’s not Pammie, William. That’s Addison, our granddaughter,” Gran corrected automatically.

There was no point in trying to change his mind. He’d been calling Addison his sister’s name for almost a year, even though they looked nothing alike and he hadn’t seen his sister, who lived in Florida, for almost a decade. It used to bother Addison, but as time went on and he grew more confused, it had become the least of her worries.

He ignored his wife so she turned to Addison, rolling her eyes.

“Did I tell you that at lunch they served him peas?” She shook her head as though it was a travesty of justice. “I tell them over and over that they make him gassy and give him a stomachache, but do they listen? No. It’s a good thing I come as often as I do because no matter how many detailed notes I leave, the workers can’t remember the simplest things. Sometimes I think I should buy a car and live in their parking lot. It would be easier on both of us.”

For years, Addison had watched the love of her grandmother’s life slowly turn into a stranger. Gramps hadn’t just been a distant pleasant figure in Addison’s life—he’d been the “teach her how to drive stick and change the oil” kind of grandfather. He’d been the one to accidentally teach her the word “shit” when she was three. He’d been the one who always had money for the candy store, and never balked about playing board games or turning the house upside down to help her set up blanket forts. She’d been his little buddy. Although she knew it wasn’t unexpected with Alzheimer’s, secretly it hurt that he’d forgotten her. Forgotten she even existed. Half the time he didn’t remember Gran or Addison’s parents either, but it still sucked.

After seeing her grandmother go through this, Addison had decided staying single for the rest of her life would be a lot less painful than watching the most important person in her world die. Maybe it was an immature way to approach life, but it was also a lot less complicated and horrible.

Linda, Gran’s favorite worker, came to bring him inside to change his incontinence stuff before supper. It was the one job Gran hadn’t minded handing over. Addison couldn’t imagine what it would be like having to take responsibility for changing her own husband. Such a small detail, but it was one that she had trouble getting past. She was sure if she loved someone enough to marry him she would do what was necessary if anything ever happened, but it was hard to face old age, sickness, and death at twenty-three. Couldn’t she just pretend people were immortal for a few more years? She enjoyed visiting her grandfather, but picturing herself in a similar situation someday made her want to run off and do something crazy—now, while she was still young enough to live.

Like joining a grand theft auto ring. She snorted at herself. Yeah. That was crazy all right. But even worse was getting in so deep with the group leader.

“Don’t think for a minute that I don’t know what’s going through your head every time you come to visit us lately,” Gran said, narrowing her eyes. “There’s no point in feeling sorry for him or for me, so stop it.”

Shame welled. Had she been that obvious? She thought she’d done a decent job of being upbeat and supportive.

Gran cleared her throat, as though she was stalling to collect her thoughts. “As awful as this must seem to you, I don’t regret my life—not even this part. Do I hate that he’s sick? Yes. Do I get satisfaction out of knowing I haven’t abandoned him completely to nurses who are strangers? Of course. Our situations could have been reversed, and I know in my heart that if I was the one who was sick, he wouldn’t abandon me either.”

“Of course he wouldn’t have!” Addison thought of her gramps, and how he used to follow Gran around the kitchen, getting stuff out of cupboards she couldn’t reach and teasing her until she smacked him with the dishtowel. They’d been very kissy with each other, which had seemed gross to her as a child, but now that she was an adult she realized how special it was that they’d still felt that way after all those years.

“I don’t regret marrying your grandfather, you know,” she said, as though Addison thought she did.

“Gran . . . I know you don’t. You two had the perfect marriage.”

“Not perfect, no, but damn happy. We fought. We never did see eye to eye on how to spend money, but in the end we probably made more memories taking road trips in that convertible of his than we would have in the kitchen remodel I wanted.” She laughed, and to Addison’s horror, she winked, as though the car had been fun in ways Addison really didn’t want to know about.

“I don’t regret taking care of him at home as long as I did, and I’m going to be here for him as much as I’m allowed to be until he leaves us.” She shrugged. Most nights they had to convince her to go home, and she was back again as soon as visiting hours began the next day.

Addison took a serious look at her Gran for the first time in months. Her cardigan hung from her frail shoulders, making her look like she’d lost weight. For the first time in Addison’s memory this woman—the rock of her family— looked old. Sure, she was almost eighty, but she’d always been so spry and full of life. That was why her parents hadn’t fought too hard when Gran had insisted she wanted to keep Gramps home for so many years. Now that he was falling more, though, she couldn’t help him transfer from bed to chair and back. More than once Gran had collapsed under his weight while trying to help him. The situation hadn’t been safe for either of them anymore.

“The years we gave to each other are worth all of this, Addison. Sometimes life leads us down paths we don’t foresee, but loving someone isn’t about dignity and convenience. For better and for worse, that’s what we promised. Guarding yourself against loving people might seem like the easiest way to keep from getting hurt, but life is a short ride and if you have no one in the seat beside you, it’s lonely.”

It was funny how everything about Gramps had to do with cars, even now that he didn’t remember owning one.

“At least when my William is gone, I’ll have decades of memories. Most good, some bad, but all of them mine.” Her smile was sad, but filled with the calm satisfaction of a life well lived, even if their years together had been cut short. “Besides, Gramps would hate it if you stayed single because of him. It would break his heart.”

“Well, I’m not really seeing anyone who’s marriage material at the moment,” she admitted, “but I’ll remember that.”

A mental image of Fox popped into her head, along with the sexy threatening texts he’d been sending over the past few days about how he seriously regretted not fucking her ass. Her cheeks burned, and she pretended to be busy following a lizard so Gran wouldn’t notice her expression.

God, Fox was bad and so fucking hot—but she couldn’t imagine them having the kind of relationship together that her grandparents would approve of. Fox was not a man she could bring to Sunday dinner.

“A man who can put that look on your face might be a keeper,” Gran mused, linking her arm with Addison’s and leading her back toward the building.

Not for the first time she was happy her grandmother couldn’t read her mind.

But Fox a keeper? Not fucking likely. He was a fun diversion, but that was all. Some hot sex, an awesome adrenaline rush, but she wasn’t ready to settle down. There were lots of options to explore, and she liked the freedom of being single.

She gave her head a shake. Why was she arguing with herself? And why the hell was she so defensive about it? It wasn’t as if she had to convince
herself
she and Fox didn’t have a future.

Then why did it feel like she did?

“Choose.”

Addison turned reluctantly away from his cars, and raised a brow. “It would help if you told me where we were going.”

He took a long moment to check her out. Today she was in jeans and a T-shirt. The girl wore casual in a way that said she had no idea how good she looked, and yet he wanted nothing more than to lean her over the hood of his Viper and shove his dick in her. Why the Viper? Because it was the closest. She made him ache with impatience. Why the hell had he chosen an outing that didn’t have sex built into it? Well . . . not as a given. Not that he’d turn it down if things headed that way.

Maybe they could take a detour.

He took a chance and wrapped his arms around her from behind, and was oddly satisfied when she leaned back against him. The hint of her floral shampoo filled his nostrils, and brought him immediately back to having her tied and helpless in his bedroom. It was crazy how much he enjoyed having her at his mercy—it was crazier that he liked this small intimacy almost as much.

“You don’t need to know where we’re going, just tell me which one you want to drive.”

“I get to drive one of your cars?”

“This once. But if you drive like it’s a drag race, it’ll be the last time.”

She bounced up and down, and he had to loosen his hold so he didn’t get headbutted in the nose.

“Oh my god! I’ll be careful. I’ll be so, so careful!” She squealed then shot him a dirty look. “You didn’t hear me do that.”

“What? I can’t hear you past this weird ringing in my ears.”

She pulled away and moved toward his collection. “It wasn’t that loud!”

Although his first instinct was to follow her, he stayed where he was, watching as she walked the rows of cars. Not touching her when she was so close was difficult, but he didn’t want to crowd her.

“I think you gave me tinnitus when you were getting off the other night. Atlas said the crystal chandelier in the foyer shattered.”

“Oh my god! They were home?” Her gaze flew to his over the top of his Lamborghini.

“Yup.”

She groaned and whispered, “Fuck. I’ll never be able to look them in the eye again.”

“They don’t judge us. They’re into kink as much as I am.” Luke had busted his balls worse than Atlas had, probably because he was jealous. “Nothing makes a man proud like giving a woman screaming orgasms, and having his best friends hear it. Too bad it wasn’t poker night.”

Her cheeks were bright pink, but she took control over her expression, and tried to look bored. “I was faking.”

“Sure you were.” He chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. “You really are a cocky bastard.”

“I have every reason to be.”

Either she was too excited to pursue that line of conversation, or really wanted to change the subject, because she turned her hungry gaze back to his cars. “The Spyder!” she exclaimed. “Can I please drive your Spyder?”

“Certainly. Top up or down?”

“Mine or the car’s?”

“Ha ha. Here I am trying to be a gentleman for once in my life, and you have to go and make it dirty.”

The grin she flashed him may have altered the earth’s gravitational pull. He felt lighter, anyway. Such a beautiful girl. She always looked like she was up to mischief, too, and he loved it.

“It was nice of you not to choose something at the back of my garage.”

“I’ll be exploring the back of your garage at some point in the future, pretty boy.” She winked. “Don’t imagine for a minute that you’re safe.”

So full of sass today. What he really wanted to do was turn her over his knee and teach her who was boss. That scenario flashed through his mind, along with a vivid fantasy of her wriggling and whining, trying half-heartedly to get away, yet getting more aroused with each smack he landed on her perfect, jiggling ass. She just had to go and put dirty thoughts in his head.

“In your dreams, little girl.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “Wouldn’t you like to know what I dream about?” Her lips parted and her gaze slid down his body to his jeans.

And now his dick was hard.

This woman needed to be taken in hand, and it was his mission to see that happen.

He grabbed the keys from the wall box, but didn’t relinquish them when she walked up to him and held out her hand. As though they weren’t scheduled to be somewhere in less than an hour, he strolled to the cobalt blue Audi R8 Spyder.

“Why this one? It’s nowhere near the most expensive car in this garage.”

She gave a one shoulder shrug. “I don’t know. There’s just something about the Spyder that’s always . . . worked for me.”

Electricity seemed to buzz through the air between them. Being around Addison meant constantly being on edge. He’d assumed his infatuation with her would fade after he’d taken her, but it had only gotten stronger. The worst part was that it was hard to tell if the feeling was mutual, or if she thought of what they’d done together as harmless fun, and nothing more. What if her interest turned to his brother or his cousin? Now that he’d claimed her, they wouldn’t go near her, but even the thought of her being interested in another man made him feel wildly possessive. He needed to get that shit under control.

He’d be damned if he would let her know he was more interested than she was. “Fair enough. But if you want the keys, you have to ask nice.”

“How nice?” she asked speculatively.

“Just words and a kiss.”

“On the mouth?”

“Is that so bad?”

“I was expecting something a little more X-rated, considering it’s you.”

He did his best to look wounded. “Hey, you’re the one who’s always making things dirty. Quit trying to drag me into your handbasket.”

“Oh, like you’re pure and innocent?” she teased.

“That depends. Do you have a secret corruption fetish?”

They were toe to toe now. She gave a vague chuckle, but was staring up at him suddenly looking very shy. Her eyes widened as she stared at his lips. “Just a kiss?” she whispered.

“I’d ask if you wanted more, but we don’t have time. I wouldn’t want to show up late. Being late is rude.”

She nodded absently, completely focused on his mouth, as though she was too distracted by the idea of kissing him to listen to what he was saying. Maybe she did like him as much as he liked her.

“So I’m here. Kiss me and give me the keys.”

He snorted. “I said
you
kiss
me
, not the other way around. I’m not going to do all the work around here, lazy woman.”

Tentatively, she slid her hands up the front of his T-shirt then ran them over his belly and ribs, to his back, making him want to rip his shirt off so she’d be tempted to do it again. She pulled him closer and stood on her toes, tipping her face upward.

“You’re going to have to lean down, dork. I didn’t bring any climbing equipment.”

“I think you can ask nicer than that, miss.”

She heaved a sigh. “Fox, will you pleeeease lean down so I can kiss your purdy mouth?”

Trouble. “Is this what you want?” He inclined his head so she could reach him, but didn’t try to kiss her even though his body was urging him to do so much more.

Lips, gossamer light, brushed against his. She gave a small whimper that went straight to his cock.

She kissed him harder, as he impatiently held back, waiting as she licked and nipped his lips, trying to get him to respond. The way she rubbed against him, begging for him with her body, almost undid him. The more impassive he seemed, the harder she tried to convince him that he wanted her. Damn, he loved this.

He waited as long as he could. Before he could stop himself, he tangled a hand in her silky brown hair. She gasped, and made seductive sounds of distress as he dragged her closer to the Spyder and shoved her belly down on the hood.

“Fuck, yes,” she hissed, arching back against him with her delicious ass, tempting him to yank down her jeans and shove his dick into her hot little cunt.

Damn, damn, damn. Today wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

He slammed the keys down on the hood next to her. “Did you forget what you were supposed to be asking for?”

“Please?” she asked breathlessly, grinding against his aching cock.

Several inarticulate Neanderthal thoughts started a fistfight in his head. He forced himself away from her, and realized he was growling. God, the more he was around this woman, the lower his IQ dropped. He got the impression that was her end goal—to see how close to a mindless sex monster she could make him. She might regret it if she succeeded.

“This is supposed to be a fucking date,” he snarled. “Get your ass behind the fucking wheel. Now.”

She turned and leaned back against the car like she couldn’t hold herself up. Her tits were heaving, and his hands longed to shred the thin cotton T-shirt hampering his view of them.

Slowly, she fumbled for the key ring behind her, and sighed as though it was the consolation prize, giving him a last longing look before doing what she was told.

When he got into the passenger seat, she was running a reverent hand over the dash. She palmed the stick shift, and he’d never envied a car more.

“So where am I taking you?” she asked. “Please tell me it’s somewhere we can be alone.”

“You wish. Head into town and I’ll give you directions when we get closer.”

For a few minutes she pointedly ignored him, but then settled into the drive, moving like the car was an extension of her body. She was good—like a dancer with unharnessed natural talent who only needed a stage to show what she could do. Watching her meld with the vehicle was magic.

When they got closer to the city, he started to direct her, unreasonably amused that she had no idea where they were going. Maybe this was a horrible idea, but knowing her like he did, he was betting she was going to love it.

She pulled into the parking lot he indicated.

“I thought this place was abandoned or something.” She arched a brow, likely assuming there was a tawdry reason he’d be taking her to an old, derelict hotel.

“They work hard to make people think it is.”

The graceful architecture of the sweeping turn-of-the-century building was incongruous, nestled as it was amongst the steel-and-glass structures around it.

“If it was really abandoned it would have been torn down by now and rebuilt as a parking garage.”

“Hmm. True.”

A man walked past them toward the Viper that they’d parked close to. Fox ignored him, but Addison’s head whipped around so fast she might have given herself whiplash.

“Oh my god. Wasn’t that . . . ?”

“Quiet, woman,” he mumbled. “If a celebrity is here without entourage, he’d rather just be a person today. Besides, no one sees anyone else here. It’s a rule.”

He led her past front-door security and past reception, to the old elevator. The uniformed elevator operator, who was so old he might have come with the building, nodded to Fox, and pushed the button for the third floor.

“What is this place?” Addison whispered, staring around, her expression bewildered.

Fox didn’t answer, but his wink made her blush. The place was a few different things, depending on what a person was looking for.

When the elevator stopped and the door opened, the air was filled with the buzzing and smell of disinfectant he’d come to associate with this floor. The high-end waiting area stood empty, as usual. Fitte didn’t cater to clientele who waited.

Loke Sigurdsson, looking huge and dangerous, was already watching them approach. “Fox, you bastard. Five minutes later I would have had security show you the door.” His raspy voice made the melodic Norwegian accent guttural rather than pretty. He and his partners all sounded like they’d spent their first thirty years screaming profanities at people. They pretty much had.

Geir and Rune glanced over and grunted affectionate insults at him, but they were discussing a sketch and turned back to their own conversation.

“This is your woman?”

“Yes. She’s the reason we’re late.”

Loke snorted and pushed back his mane of black hair. The scar that slashed from eye to jawbone made him look like some sort of supervillain. They were technically still a death metal band, they’d just stopped performing publically. In their invite-only dungeon they still played regularly, in both senses of the word.

Addison was clutching Fox’s hand, and when he glanced down at her, the grin that lit her face was feral.

“Hmm.” Loke gave her an appraising once-over. “Hot little piece of ass.”

Loke grinned wolfishly. She matched it.

“Watch her around Rune. She’s his flavor.” Loke shrugged as though a man tempted by a woman couldn’t be blamed for carrying her off.

“She’s mine. I’ll kick his ass if he lays a hand on her.”

The room went very still. Rune’s gaze drifted over Addison’s face, lingering on her fierce expression before sliding down to her body. When he was done, he nodded at Fox in approval. “A woman worth having is a woman worth dying for.”

“Submissive?” Loke asked Fox.

“Sometimes, but not to you,” Addison replied mildly.

Geir barked a laugh and said something in Norwegian.

“Geir says if you ever tire of that vanilla boy, you come play with us.” Rune strolled over, his dark eyes gleaming.

“Go jerk off or something, Rune. I have work to do,” Loke said dismissively. Rune lingered nearby, eyeing Addison with an interest that made Fox’s hackles rise. He’d watched the three of them triple team a girl before. He hoped that wasn’t one of Addison’s fantasies, because he sure as hell didn’t want to share.

“Have you decided which of you I’m tattooing?” Loke asked, turning his back to Rune.

Addison was staring up at Fox.

“You mentioned you always wanted a tattoo. These assholes are the best, and they owe me a favor. They’re exclusive and have done all of my work.”

Her face lit up, and he could see her mind racing.

“No is an okay answer.”

“Fuck yeah!” she replied without hesitation.

“I hope you know what you want. I don’t have time to sit on my ass,” Loke groused. “I don’t do cute or cartoons. You’d have to see Rune for that.”

Rune glared at Loke with his freakishly pale eyes and finally went back to Geir. None of them would agree to do work like that. As successful as they’d already been as entrepreneurs, it wasn’t like they needed the money anymore. They only did what they felt like doing.